


Glances

by lookingforatardis



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Angst, Confessions, M/M, Resolved, Stolen Glances, i guess, idk anymore, its not that angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 08:43:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13877316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis
Summary: It was the way he moved with ease of mind and quiet confidence that pulled his eyes, every time, without fail.





	Glances

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea of them walking past each other in hallways and finding one another's eyes, like a secret between them. There's this band called Green or Blue that I've been following for many years that recently came back from a hiatus so I've been listening to a lot of them lately, and they have a song called Glances Under Sheets, and the combination of that song on repeat and the image of them crossing paths without words, only glances, resulted in this.

It was the way he moved with ease of mind and quiet confidence that pulled his eyes, every time, without fail. It began with inconsistent glances upon hearing his voice, his laughter, the pull to seek the culprit unconscious and demanding. By the time he was aware he'd been doing it, the habit had been set and no amount of effort could stop him from watching as Timmy spun on the dance floor or trailed his hands through his hair. Eventually, he allowed his own hands to follow the path, his gaze always darting down to meet eyes when sighs were exchanged like currency.

When Timmy noticed the glances, the careful eyes, he was entranced by the attention, uncertain of its meaning, still unsure of his own interest let alone Armie's. There was never anything said about it, only looks swapped back and forth like ping pong balls echoing in their chests until finally, the glances turned to fluttering eyes and quickened breath across the room, the eye contact too steady to do anything but excite. The silence emphasized the stolen aspect, an agreement between them in their irises that this was not to be mentioned, maybe ever.

After filming ended, the opportunity for glances dissipated and when they returned to one another, Armie once again found his eyes pulled with the slightest movement, the twitch of fingers, the hitch in breath. Over kitchen counters and in rearview mirrors their eyes would meet with something words could not match, an understanding passing that it meant everything and nothing to hold one another's gaze for the briefest moment, the attention taken from each other greedily in crowded rooms and darkened hallways.

The frequency with which they stole glances for later grew upon beginning the press tour. Without the love of a crew who saw and understood, the cameras turned expository, capturing every lingering look, every betrayal of logic when, upon a smile or bounce of a leg, Armie would find his eyes drifting back to Timmy, to his lips, his fingers, his hair, his eyes, the recording equipment ensuring the world could play it back. The first warning came in hushed tones from Luca. Making eyes is dangerous with so many people to see. I don't know what you're talking about, he'd say, but nodding all the same. But he knew it was futile, trying not to look. He'd learned enough by then to understand that it was not a choice he made to stare, that he had little control over himself when Timmy held so much life in his eyes.

Neither knew what it was that set the world on fire when they'd find each other in awards shows, oceans of people between them and their gaze. The flickering light when they'd see the other in hallways, the brush of hands and hiding smirks, the glances, always the glances, when they'd pass one another without a word.

Timmy grew increasingly aware of his own attraction with every look that was passed like secrets in grade school, the longer they stared the greater the reveal in his mind that he would not, could not, deny how badly he wanted the glances to be more. He attempted to say as much one night when they were alone, but the eyes that met his were so intense that he couldn't find his voice and the moment passed in silence. Bridges built between them, covering the vast expanse of emotion they weren't sure they deserved, their eyes the only things they felt comfortable crossing it with. Eventually, glances would turn heated and they both became aware of the effect, never touching, only allowing sight alone to do it for them, never speaking of what they knew was happening in the late hours of the night when the memory of each other's eyes set skin ablaze.

The glances lasted years, crossed continents, exposed too much, until finally, they could do nothing but stare, stare, stare until tears stung Timmy's eyes one night at dinner as those around the table laughed, his heart tight, his jeans tighter. The footsteps that followed his up the stairs and into the guest bathroom were weighted, the hands that pressed him to the wall too familiar, the scent which enveloped him as eyes drifted with quiet moans and closed lids was one he'd never forget. They traded glances for skin, asked nothing of each other but to be one despite not having the time to see it through, forgetting the reasons they had to continue looking instead of doing, names exchanged and traded until in a hushed confession, Timmy told him how he felt.

The glances were gone, the dinner continued, shirts were straightened. Homes were cold and love too distant. Armie knew not what it was about the words against his shoulder that made him fear so much, only that the thought of embracing them meant more than he was willing to comprehend. Over the breakfast table, the pull returned as his eyes sought Timmy's, finding hurt indifference in the glance that was returned without hesitation. Days passed like lifetimes, the glances innocent no more, no longer unconscious, far more uncertain.

When the press circuit wrapped and awards shows nearly faded, gravity held them closer until their eyes became safe havens once again, their gazes warm and inviting if not a little afraid. They never spoke of the moments that came from the night they gave in, pushing it away in favor of eyes that saw everything and embraced the love they could no longer deny, even if voices failed, if touch was withheld.

In the calm that settled around them after the shows had ended like sand, they sat alone together until moonlight cloaked them in clarity, they eyes meeting with the understanding that conversations in glances would never be enough, when they traded looks under lashes for words that made intentions clear, _I want this_ in shaking voices and _I love you's_ exchanged with tears until neither could do anything but hold the other with the promise of more, of life, of love, in each other's arms. Years of glances fell at the ground as they accepted the truth they may have known all along-

The world has light for enough of us to see, but it grows with each moment spent in love with the one whose being your soul would spend an eternity searching for, until at last, with a sigh of relief, together, they find peace.

 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think!! it's a bit different from my typical charmie stuff.


End file.
